The End
by Miss-Savvi
Summary: At the end of it all, emotion means nothing. Love, hatred; they're all the same. A human being is judged only on the actions they chose to do or not to do in their life. So why is one individual such an enigma? Cassian and Will. Hints of CassianxJizabel
1. Chapter 1

Author's Note: So before you begin, I would just like to let you know a few things:

1. This contains spoilers. For the sake of death gods I do not want comments complaining that I gave away the ending to either story.

2. Thank you so much, Sorryll for helping me with this idea, and reading through my stuff to be sure that it's not crap before I post it.

3. The lyrics are from the song "Dear Agony" by Breaking Benjamin

Disclaimer: I can only wish that I owned Godchild and Kuroshitsuji, but alas, I do not. They are property of Kaori Yuki and Yana Toboso.

_I have nothing left to give_

_I have found the perfect end_

_You remain to make it hurt_

_Disappear into the dirt_

"Who are you?" the question was all too redundant to him by now, having been asked it uncountable times over the years. One that William T. Spears was prepared to answer with the same words as many times as needed. Although, he did see it as a reasonable question to ask. After all, having a stranger clad in black appear at the moment when a person had thought they were dead would probably surprise anyone. However, it was his duty to inform the individual that they had indeed passed on, and that he would determine whether or not their soul went to heaven, or, the increasingly popular, hell. So as he stood in the dank attic room, looking down at the boy on the floor, covered in blood he waited for those three words to be spoken.

"Where is Jizabel?" admittedly, the question caught him off guard. So off guard in fact that he said, as he was so used to doing,

"My name is William T. Spears. I am a god of death."

The boy squinted in the dim light of the room, trying to see the face of the man that stood in front of him. Glasses reflected off of the candlelight, as well as the blade that the man had clasped in a gloved hand.

"Yes…but that's not what I asked." Cassian said without blinking an eye. No one had ever acted so calm around him before, so a young boy confronting him, an introduced "God of Death" was strange indeed.

"In case you hadn't noticed," he trailed off, flipping through a few pages in the book he had in his opposite hand until he'd found what he was looking for. "…Cassian, you are dead. Now, as a God of Death, it is my duty to escort you to the afterlife. First I will view your Cinematic Record, basically a film synapses with your life, which will determine where you go to heaven, or…elsewhere." he added grimly.

"Hell?" Cassian asked, standing to get a better look at the man called William. A small smile passed his lips, and he said softly,

"Don't bother…I know that's where I'm going, no doubt about it."

Now this was strange. Still, not giving away his surprise and curiosity, William stood up straighter, and flipped through the book for a second time. Whether what the boy had said was true or not, rules had to be followed, and they stated that the individual's Cinematic Record had to be sorted through before any decisions could be made.

"Well…regulations state that I must view your record before I can do anything. Rules must be followed, you see?" he paused, pushing his glasses up with the glistening blade of his scythe. "Now, your Cinematic Record contains all the defining moments in your life such as birth, childhood memories, serious illnesses, crimes, loves, deaths around you and finally…your own death." he motioned to Cassian who had been so busy focusing on William to notice his own body.

He was nothing short of shocked to see the small hands of his former self in front of him. Slowly, he brought one up to his neck, scarcely aware that in the other he was still holding the bloodied scalpel. Fingers ran over the wound on his throat, causing more blood to pour from the gaping slash across the skin.

"So…I'm dead…right?" he said with noticeably less confidence than before. The idea of death still did not scare him. He was surprised at the complicated procedures, though. Why could he not be sent to eternal damnation with no questions asked?

"Yes, so come now. I must go through your Cinematic Record. If you're so sure that you're going to hell, then we can make this quick." he said with the slightest tone of annoyance in his voice, for this was not the first reaping he'd had to do that day, and it wouldn't be the last. The Association was painfully shorthanded at the moment, so for the past two weeks William had been clocking out at nearly ten pm.

"Oh yes, one more thing." he added, "Do you have any last requests?" Cassian wrinkled his eyebrows in confusion.

"Like what?"

"Any sort of message you would like delivered to someone stating that you've passed on or something along those lines?" The boy thought a moment, then whispered softly,

"What are the chances you could get the message to someone who is already gone?" William cast his gaze down at the boy who was becoming more and more curious to him.

"I've never been asked that before, but I can try my best." he stated. Cassian smiled a little, then looked the God of Death directly in the eyes.

"I need you to tell one person something for me…I need you to tell him that during his life, he was never really alone, and that I was always right there for him. Tell him that even though he claimed to be numb to the world, I could see otherwise. I need him to know that even when he was stained with blood, he was still beautiful to me…" Cassian stopped a moment, and it looked as though he was going to cry. William eyed him with confusion. "So please…if you can tell him these last two things…that I love him, and that I was not strong enough to survive without the one thing that meant more to me than life…above all, tell him that I'm sorry." silence filled every corner of the room until Cassian spoke again. "Guess it's kind of a strange message, huh?"

"Yes, well…" William said, clearing his throat. "Are you ready to move on, Cassian?" the boy nodded.

His mind did not have a chance to generate pain as the blade of the scythe was plunged into his chest. Instead of blood, filmstrips poured from the wound, glowing in serene, white light. William pushed his glasses up the bridge of his nose, and began to leaf through the "boy's" Cinematic Record.

_Carry me to heaven's arms_

_Light the way and let me go_

_Take the time to take my breath_

_I will end where I begin_


	2. Chapter 2

_Author's Note: Thank you to anyone still reading this story. It's one of my favourites because I get to write for Cassian…granted that I added details and taken a significant amount of liberties with the story. Thank you especially to Sorryll who has recently guided me around the city of London, and helped me to find DELILAH's headquarters...which we DID find, by the way! Ha! Jealousy._

* * *

His mind did not have a chance to generate pain, as the blade of the scythe was plunged into his chest. Cassian's body fell, hovering only a few inches above ground as glowing filmstrips poured forth from the wound in place of blood. They glowed a serene white, lighting up the centre of the attic room.

William pushed his glassed up the bridge of his nose, then opened a leather-bound book. He turned to the first page, golden eyes flicking over the page until he came to the bottom of it. He withdrew a pen from within his coat, and quickly scribbled down _Cassian _onto the blank line.

Rules would indicate that before judgement could be made on a soul, one must look at the individual's record for a minimum of 3 hours.

William sighed in disdain. He waited a few moments, carefully considering the boy's promise that he would be going to hell. A part of him wanted to simply send Cassian on his way, since he seemed to be so sure that that was where he was going, but the smarter, more dominant part of his mind would not allow him to go through with such an action.

Then there was that nagging curiosity as well. How could someone so young condemn themselves to an afterlife of flames and misery? More importantly; why? And who had his final message been intended for? A father, perhaps? Maybe an uncle, or adoptive guardian?

Finally, deciding that he was getting nowhere by simply standing around, William reached for one of the filmstrips. It ghosted his hand, and he looked at the noiseless images dancing within its borders. He lightly touched the it, standing back as the other strips vanished, leaving him with a singular film.

"Cassian…son of Henry and Rebecca Everard…Born 13th of August near London…" he mumbled to himself, scribbling down names, dates, and places in the Cinematic Record while the film played on. William frowned, watching quite the average childhood unfold.

Countless scenes of a younger Cassian unfolded_. _Pictures and clips of his family, friends, and house appeared on the screen, some depicting happier times, and others tragic. His mother appeared gentle, with the same chestnut hair as her son. His father looked to be a bit more strict, and acted as though having Cassian around was just another burden.

He learnt of the "boy's" growth defect, and how his parents had cruelly sold him to the circus when they discovered that he would never have the body of an adult. Time and time again, he stared in detest as Cassian was whipped unconscious by the ringmaster. Ridicule and mocking were things that humans seemed to have perfected to an art form. William reminded himself of this as he watched the ringmaster and his whore make bets on whether or not Cassian would fall for her.

"_Say, Cassian, could you come here a moment?" The blonde motioned over to him from behind a gaudy velvet curtain. Cassian's face turned three shades of red, and he did a quick double-take before asking,_

"_Me?" the girl laughed._

"'_Course I mean you! You're the only Cassian here, eh?" he shrugged, and walked over to where she was standing. For a few seconds they merely stood, gazing at one another. Then without warning she took a step closer, grabbing his hands in her own. _

"_I meant to tell you earlier that your performance tonight was spectacular." She smiled, winking at him. Cassian shrugged, not exactly sure how to feel about the sudden attention. _

"_Yeah…it was nothing?" she laughed again. Cassian's eyebrows wrinkled._

"_I'm sorry, Miss, but do I know you?" she stopped, eyes wide with shock._

"_Oh! I'm terribly sorry, I forgot to introduce myself! My name's Emilie, I just joined. I'm a tightrope walker." She dropped his hand, only to grab it again in a soft handshake._

"_All right then…well, I'd better go…Ringmaster'll want me to help take down the tent before long." he mumbled, feeling his face grow hot. Just as she turned to leave, he felt a soft tug at his sleeve, and warm lips pressed to his cheek. If he hadn't been blushing before, he certainly was now. Emilie smiled at him again, and said,_

"_See you around then, love!" _

William frowned. Something about her was definitely suspicious, however, the only thing he could do was watch. He looked on as Cassian and Emilie spent more and more time together. She seemed to always sneak out back after his knife throwing performances to compliment how "spectacular" he was. Just as he thought that his first impression of her had been wrong, he discovered the humiliating truth.

"_Pay up then, George!" Emilie said with a wicked grin on her face. The ringmaster looked up with a deep frown._

"_What for?" she rolled her eyes, sauntering to sit on the makeshift bed beside him._

"_You know very well. The bet; I won." _

"_What bet?" _

"_Now don't act like you don't know!" Her smile turned into a frown now too as the man avoided eye contact with her. "You know damn well 'what bet'. The one we made involving that brat, Cassian!" Emilie threw a piece of paper at him, and the ringmaster instantly picked it up for examination. _

"_You said if I could seduce him in a week, you'd give me five quid! Look, you even signed it!" she pointed to the paper. He scowled, and folded his arms across his chest._

"_Emilie, please-,"_

"_Oh no! You're not getting out of this, George. You owe me, and you know it!" _

"_What proof do you have that he fell for y-," as though she had expected those words, Emilie dropped another folded scrap of paper in his lap._

"_The little brat wrote me a love letter. Ugh! Makes me sick to think that he actually had feelings for me, the little creep." With a few mumbled words, the ringmaster reached into his pocket and pulled out a five pound note._

"_Fine. Here. Take it." Emilie smiled again, edging closer to the man, who was now muttering curse words under his breath. She snaked an arm around his shoulder, and whispered into his ear,_

"_Thank you, love." _

It was after that that Cassian burst into the tent, throwing knives in hand. Two shots was all it took to end the lives of the woman he thought he loved, and the man who had made his life hell for so long. When his task was finished, he wiped the blades clean on his shirt, and fled the circus.

As much as William hated to do so, he was obligated to write the word "murderer" into Cassian's cinematic record.


	3. Chapter 3

_The boy fell to his knees on the grimy, cobblestone road. He checked the pockets of his latest victim, only after retiring a knife to the folds of his own thin coat. A few coins tumbled out onto the street, and instantly they were snatched up into his hands. Aside from that, there was nothing._

_Cassian scowled, shoving his latest "reward" in his pocket before shuffling the man's body into an empty ally-way. The smog was so thick in this part of London that the corpse may go undetected for days. _

_He walked, cap down through the crowds, noting that there was no one rich enough walking by worth risking a quick pick-pocket. Winter was settling in over the city, and soon the streets would no longer be a safe place to live. Already he could see his breath spiralling out in small clouds, and it was scarcely past October. _

_His journey lasted well over an hour, until he finally arrived at a small space, wedged between a pub and what was known to be a whore house. He stole a quick glance behind him before retreating into the depths of the ally-way, his own little hideout. _

_By now, commotion over the discovery of the dead Ringmaster and Emilie had quieted. Still, he could not bring himself to leave the city. It wasn't as though he had anywhere else to go, and as long as he was careful who he killed and when, he could lead a life of crime undetected._

Will glanced from the scene playing to where Cassian's body lay beneath strips of glowing film. He wondered how someone could commit multiple murders without so much as a suspicion. No longer was he questioning the "boy's" prediction that he would be going to hell. His eyes moved from Cassian, back to the film where another character had entered the Cinematic Record.

_A tall shade stood in the streets, face hidden behind a collared coat, and pulled down cap. Cassian__'s hands flew for a throwing knife, the stranger's life was threatened before he even had a chance to speak. _

"_Who are you?" Cassian growled, shoving the individual to the wall without so much as a struggle. In the blackness, there was a smile on the shadow's face._

"_Someone who can help you, Cassian." the boy took a step backward, knife still held in the air, poised for an attack should one be necessary. _

"_Tell me who the hell you are…and how do you know my name?" the shade chuckled, and went on as though they were friends talking over a glass of wine._

"_I know who you are, and I know what you've done." it stated simply. Cassian's eyes went wide, but the shade didn't seem to notice as he continued. _

"_I'm telling you that it's all right. Where I'm from killing is… a desired skill." it paused another moment. Cassian lowered the knife, and repeated for a third time,_

"_Who are you?"_

"_How would you like money?" it ignored his question once more. "Or…a new set of throwing knives?" a gloved hand extended a silver-handled blade to Cassian who reached for it reluctantly._

"_What else can you offer?" Again, the shade chuckled, then whispered_

"_Anything. Food, water, shelter-"_

"_I could get all of that on my own if I really wanted to." Cassian wrinkled his nose at the being in front of him. _

"_The body of an adult?" _

_Those words hooked him, and the shadow knew it. From within the folds of his coat, he pulled out a piece of paper._

"_Just sign here, and all of your desires could be made into a reality." _

_And with that, he signed away his soul to the devil. To organisation DELILAH._

Needless to say, William had never heard of such an organisation. Thankfully, it wasn't his job to investigate government conspiracies…at least not yet. Without a word, he sliced through the most recent part of Cassian's life, returning it to the Cinematic Record with the others.

_Cassian stood in the doorway of a dim room, risking a half-glance backward. Six months had passed since he__'d joined the organisation, and he'd been appointed as the doctor's assistant._

_He shifted his weight from foot to foot and drive his teeth into his lower lip. For a moment he considered simply turning around and asking the man known as the "cardmaster" for a different position in the organisation. The temptation of growing into an adult's body was too much though, and soon he found himself calling out into the darkness._

"_Hello?" no response. Cassian took a step forward, resting a hand on the cold, grey wall. The only light was from a half burnt candle on a desk near the back of the room. Chemicals like formaldehyde, and other preservatives clung to the air, nearly suffocating him as he stood. _

"_Is anyone there?" with every second that passed he wished himself somewhere else. Now, above the stink of chemicals was the unmistakable odour of decay. As Cassian's eyes adjusted to the dark, he noted the source of the stench._

_A person, or what was left of it, lay on the table. Its insides spilled out over the "Y" shaped slice in its torso. The gender had been rendered undistinguishable through the carnage of entrails and blood. As though this discovery weren't horrible enough, it only took a moment longer to realise that the shelf behind the corpse was filled with jars of floating organs. _

_A cry escaped from somewhere in his throat before he had the chance to be sick. He wanted to run, but his legs buckled. All he could do was simply stand, frozen, and force his breathing to return to normal. _

For a moment, Will himself felt the need to vomit. He had seen gore in his day (having caused some of it himself) but he feared that he would never get used to seeing it in Cinematic Records, especially in dissections. He swallowed hard, and looked on.

"_Please! Is anyone there?" he called out again, voice having lost all confidence. This time there was the soft shuffling of papers in response. Cassian nearly snapped his neck turning to look at the desk where someone now sat._

"_Just how long do you plan on standing there shouting to yourself?" The man asked, clearly annoyed. Cassian (taking a deep breath) took a step further into the dungeon. He squinted. Long, silvery strands of hair reflected in the candlelight. _

"_Excuse me?" he said. "But do you know where I can find a Dr. Disraeli?" _

"_If you'd bother to look a few steps ahead of you, you'd notice that he's right here." The silver haired man said. A hint of arrogant venom laced his words, and he did not bother turning around to face the other._

"…_You're him then?" he concluded._

"_Yes. And who might you be?" it was clear that he didn't actually want to know, but out of some form of politeness, he'd asked anyway._

"_My name is Cassian, I'm your new assistant."_

A/N: To anyone who is still reading this, thank you very much! I know it has been a very long time since I've updated anything. I blame essaying for wasting my life away. In this chapter (though he was hardly mentioned) I did my best to make Dr. Disraeli appear as brat-like as he was in Cain Saga: Seal of the Red Ram Part 1. He treated Cassian very arrogantly the first time we see them together. Alas, I could not find appropriate lyrics for this chapter. Might I suggest listening to Breaking Benjamin. Their stuff seems to fit the mood to this chapter.

Thank you again, all. I look forward to seeing you in chapter four!


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